Breathe
by rgs38
Summary: One-Shot. Wordy right after "Fault Lines." I was so frustrated by the ending  or lack thereof  that I had to write something. BIG SPOILERS FOR "FAULT LINES." A lot of cursing.


Breathe

_Okay, I know I promised a longer Sam story for his "One Wrong Move" reaction, I have most of the first chapter hand written in my Philosophy notes (I was bored today in class), so why am I writing this instead you ask? Well, I got frustrated with CBS so I watched the rest of Season 3 online through various sites (thanks if you gave me suggestions) and I was doing pretty well until the finale. Holy Shit! I was so frustrated at the end and so torn up about everything that happened and I need to do something with all my thoughts before I try to sleep, so here's a little Wordy for you. BIG SPOILERS FOR "FAULT LINES." I REPEAT: BIG SPOILERS FOR "FAULT LINES." DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT BIG SPOILERS FOR "FAULT LINES." Get the point? Good. Tell me what you think of my story, of the finale, anything. I still don't own it, though I might have to come to Canada, find the people that do, and demand they play the next episode! Warning: Lots of cursing, I usually try to keep it to a minimum but I think it was fitting. _

His head was resting against the steering wheel of his parked car as he forced himself to take deep breaths. _Come on man. Breathe. Come on. Relax now. Breathe._ He repeated the demands to himself over and over, they helped at first but the moment that his attention slipped he remembered the evaluation and a combination of fear and anger coursed through his veins.

_Stupid! _He internally yelled at himself._ How could I be so obvious? He read me like a book, I was holding it together. _"Fuck!" He yelled out loud as he slammed his fists onto the steering wheel. He held out his hands again like he had been throughout the day. He concentrated and held them as steady as possible for a moment until his right hand started to shake. He quickly made fists and shoved them to his sides.

_Breathe. Relax Wordy, breathe. _

"Why didn't I just say cereal? Why didn't I just tell him I had fruit loops for breakfast with my girls?" He looked at his hands again. "Why couldn't I remember..." He felt panic rush through him.

_Relax damn it!_

"Who the hell cares if my signature is getting smaller? What the fuck does that mean? And so what if I haven't been to a doctor in two...or three...years, I'm in the hospital enough anyway." Wordy was talking to himself in the silence of his car. Working through the interview, anger now bubbling up. "The better question is why the hell Greg would do this to us..." Wordy knew the answer to his own question, Greg was worried about the team and knew that he was too close to assess them but putting them through this shit. "Fuck!" He punched at his steering wheel again.

_Fuck, will you relax already god dammit! _

The sleeping problems, he knew that's what was going to do him in. Even if he had issues shooting, even if he had a little twitch (after all the concussions he'd had, it was really to be expected), the insomnia would be doing him in. Problems sleeping was one of the keystone signs of psychological distress and he knew it. It had been a while now, ever since Lou had died he'd have trouble falling asleep. His mind would cycle through possibilities and emotions and alternate realities where he was the one on the land mine. He quickly shook the thought out of his head. He looked to his hands again. It had been getting worse lately, sometimes it would take him hours to fall asleep after an exhausting day, only to wake up three or four hours later stirred by memories and nightmares.

And then there was the rest of his life, looking good to everyone but it felt like it was perpetually crashing down around him. He took a few deep breaths. _Damn it, why didn't you just keep saying it was Ally? He knew. He knew it. _"Fucking lie detector." He mumbled under his breath. _What if they don't clear me?_ He thought to himself. _How the fuck will I survive? How will I pay the bills and put food on the table and keep my family safe? _The thought was almost too scary for him to think about. The house was out of their range already, it was already a stretch and without this job...

_Why the hell was Spike so pissed at me? I need this job more than him...he's young and brilliant and has offers in other places...this is all I know..._ Wordy thought about their fight. He didn't mean to break the ladder, it had been around the SRU as long as he had and it was bound to break any time, but Spike was cut up pretty bad.

He put his head in his arms and rested on the steering wheel again. There was no way for him to calm down at this point, worry was building up inside of him too quickly to control. He wanted to call Ed but he knew that he was probably at the hospital and he was probably really pissed off; the last thing Ed needed to add onto his list of stress was the knowledge that his next-in-command, his team mate, his best friend, was falling apart. He sat back in his seat and tried to take some deep breaths. He glanced over at the passenger seat where his phone and gun were sitting. He found himself eyeing the gun, wondering if it would just be easier this way-

"NO! WHAT THE FUCK AM I THINKING!" Wordy yelled out as he threw the gun in the backseat, out of reach and turned the ignition on the car. He was breathing heavily, _What the fuck was that Wordy? You are no fucking coward._ He thought as he pulled into his driveway. He had parked about a block away from his home, needing to sort through his thoughts before he had to put on a smile for his family. He locked the gun in the glove box of his car as quickly as he could and went into his home.

_Breathe. Just Breathe. _

_Needed to get that one out. I'm still really frustrated about the ending though and I'm not even talking about the big cliffhangers like the fate of the team and if Ed's shot (though those do play in), I'm honestly more worried about Spike and Wordy! I'm odd like that, I like the characters who get less screen time...though they're often the first to get written off...NOOOOOOOOOO!_


End file.
